A/N: and here's the next installment of my Faberry series, yay! Remember to review, tip your waitress, and there's a little bit in this chapter that's for all of the people who have reviewed in the past telling me how tired they are of the Santana talk. I'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as possible, but the weather in my area has been a little bipolar late, which means awful headaches that leave me exhausted and wanting nothing more than to lie down and die. Enjoy!

Quinn Fabray let out a big sigh, and willed her eyes to stay open as she sat through another boring physics class. One of the many things she kept close to her chest was her love of learning, but her teacher's voice was so monotone as it churned out of his throat that the sound of it lulled her brain into a trance, and before she knew it, she was nodding off. When her phone vibrated in her pocket she wanted to sing with joy for the distraction, but restrained herself. She slowly pulled the Blackberry from her jeans, and hid it in her purse while Mr. Price tried but failed to make physics fun.

A small smile pulled at her lips when she saw it was a text from Rachel. She glanced around, checking to make sure no one else was trying to sneak a peek at what could be on the screen. Rachel had recently mastered the art of sexy texting, and the last thing Quinn needed was one of the over-sexed jocks using her girlfriend's words for masturbation material. "You'll never guess what just happened!"

"You stole a hall pass from Ms. Pillsbury's office and you're going to rescue me from this soulless drone?" she wrote back, praying that the answer would be yes. Getting caught rounding second base by Rachel's father was one of the best and worst things that had never happened to the blonde. On the one hand it encouraged her to come out to her mother, and the older woman was slowly getting used to the idea of having a gay daughter. On the other, shittier hand, she was no longer allowed at Rachel's house unsupervised, which meant their budding sex life was ground to a halt.

"Nope," was the response. Quinn glanced up to make sure her teacher hadn't noticed anything. The last thing she needed was the public humiliation of having to stand up in front of the whole class and read her texts out loud before having her phone taken away for the rest of the week.

"You packed our bags and we're going to run off and join the circus to be lion tamers who calm the beasts by singing show tunes?" she sent with a small smirk on her face. She picked up her number two pencil and scribbled out some notes to keep up the appearance that she was paying attention.

"You know I'm allergic to cats, Quinn. Guess again." She had to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. She took a second to calm down for fear of breaking down and drawing unwanted attention. After a moment she typed out her response.

"You stood up in the middle of class and declared your undying love of tofu?" It only took a moment for Rachel's response to light up the screen.

"Hahaha, nope!"

"Ok, just tell me. I'm out of funny things to say."

"*gasp* say it isn't so, Quinn." Before Quinn could respond, she got another text. "I was in the library studying for my English exam and a girl came up to me. She wants to join glee club next year but she asked if I would give her private lessons first." Quinn got a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, but did her best to ignore it. She didn't have much time to think about it before she got another text. "Can you believe it? Someone at this school actually wants me to teach them!" Quinn smiled as she imaged the excited look on Rachel's face.

"That's great, baby. So, who is this adoring fan of yours?" After she finished typing that out, she read it three times to make sure it didn't sound mean, bitchy, or jealous. Once she decided that it didn't invoke any of those things, she hit send and waited for Rachel's response.

"Cindy Sanders. She sang White Knuckles right there in the library. She isn't too bad, a little pitchy, but I'm sure with practice that will go away." Quinn didn't recognize that name, but she didn't find it odd. McKinley High may be small, but there were plenty of people she went out of her way to avoid; freshman, the chess club, synchronized swimmers, and the 4H kids for example.

"In the library. What a rebel."

"Haha. We did get kicked out. Mrs. Spink just doesn't understand or appreciate the music of this century."

"Why, Rachel Berry, you naughty thing ;)"

"Quinn, don't say things like that to me while we're in school! I won't be able to focus." A large smirk broke out on the blonde's face. She could just imagine what Rachel looked like right now: face and chest flushed, her soft pink tongue slowly licking her lips as she pupils dilate and she tries to hide the fact that she's shifting back and forth in her seat because of the moisture gathering between her legs. All of that got the former cheerleader's heart rate going. She took a few moments to think about how she wanted to this play. She could listen to Rachel and change the subject, but what fun would that be?

"So I shouldn't tell you that I'm thinking about running my hands over those gorgeous legs of yours?" she sent, and bit her bottom lip as she looked back at the white board and tried to at least pretend to pay attention. She felt sneaky, and really bad for saying things like this in the middle of a crowded room. She found it completely amazing that Rachel can make her feel so exhilarated without even being in the same room. She forced herself to remain calm when her phone vibrated again.

"Umm, no?" was the reply, and it caused a wicked grin to spread over her lips. She looked up at the board again, a far off look in her eyes as she took a moment to think of a response. It had to be racy, but not too sexual. She didn't want to freak Rachel out or accidentally start a fight by being too "inappropriate" for a public setting. Her thumb quickly moved over the tiny buttons when the idea finally came to her.

"Ok. So, I definitely shouldn't tell you how badly I want to kiss them, and nibble on that little spot that always makes you moan and curl your toes?" She felt her face and neck heat up with a blush as her heart started pounding in her chest. Just because she wasn't allowed in Rachel's house unsupervised didn't mean the two hadn't found some time to be together, and they were becoming more acquainted with each other's bodies to a certain point.

"Quinn, please. I can't stop blushing and people are starting to stare," was the response, and it made Quinn's lips curl into an evil smirk. It wasn't a big surprise to either of them that Quinn loved control, and she especially loved hearing Rachel beg, even if it was via text. Her smile grew a little bigger, her eyes sparkled with mischief as she typed out her reply.

"Did I make you wet, baby?" she sent, and looked up at the board again, thankful that the teacher had yet to catch on. Sometimes she couldn't believe how different she was now. No longer the completely repressed girl afraid of her sexuality, but now she embraced it, and experimented with it, even if that was tame by other people's standards. She thought it was funny that if Finn or any guy she dated had sent her a text like that he would have been slapped, but Rachel just brought this out in her, and every day she was growing more comfortable in her own skin.

"…yes. You are so mean to me sometimes, Quinn Fabray." She had to bite the insides of her cheeks to stop from laughing. She could just imagine the huffy look on Rachel's face as the brunette typed that out. Quinn shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. Her plan to tease the other girl had somewhat backfired and now she was sitting in a room with thirty other people growing wetter by the second with no outlet.

"Meet me at my car when lunch starts and I'll make it up to you. I promise ;)" she sent, and bit her bottom lip. It had been the brunette's suggested for Quinn to get a cover for her new car to protect the paint from the elements to keep it in prime condition, and it was also the brunette who suggested spending lunch inside said car while it was covered so they could have some privacy safe from prying eyes.

"It's tempting, but I can't." Quinn's eyebrows furrowed, and she let out a little sigh of irritation. Well, that totally came back to bite me in the ass, she thought and crossed her legs, praying that the people around her wouldn't smell her arousal but knew they probably already could. "I told Cindy I would give her a vocal lesson at lunch." Quinn's jaw clenched and she took a breath to calm herself. Why are you getting so weird? It's just a vocal lesson, she thought, and rolled her eyes a little.

"Blowing me off for another girl? She better give us an edge next year, or I might get jealous (j/k)."

"Aw, baby, don't get jealous. You know I'm your girl." A dreamy smile pulled at Quinn's lips and her whole body relaxed. Before she could think of a response, Rachel sent another message. "Besides if Santana can't tempt me than nothing can." Quinn glared at the phone so hard her vision blurred around the edges.

"You know I don't like it when you talk about Santana like that," she sent back, and took another deep breath, trying as hard as she could to calm her body down. She was at a disadvantage, her arousal was doing nothing now but fueling her anger, but she was determined to stay calm and not start a fight.

"And I hate it when you eat meat, and yet…." Quinn rolled her eyes, and tried to let the jealous feeling go. The Santana joke had been fun at first, but now it was getting old, and the former cheerleader had to really concentrate on controlling these feelings of jealousy and agitation. Mostly because a little nagging voice in the back of her mind kept whispering that if Rachel did want to hook up with the head cheerio, Santana wouldn't hesitate.

"Haha, Rach," she sent, choosing to simply ignore the comment, knowing how easily it would cause a fight to break out between them. "So we won't get to see each other until glee club? What am I going to do until then?" Maybe playing the guilt card was a little low, but considering her mood she really didn't care.

The bell rang and everyone immediately started getting up and headed for the door while the teacher yelled out the homework assignment. Quinn pushed her way passed the slow moving crowd and headed straight for her locker to put her books away, and she waited there, leaning against the cold metal phone in hand. When it finally vibrated with a response from her girlfriend, Quinn's curiosity was peaked as to why it had taken the brunette so long to reply.

"IDK, that history paper you never finished last night?" Despite the biting response, a small smile pulled at Quinn's lips as her mind wondered off. Memories of the previous night started floating through her brain, and it caused a blush to paint her cheeks a light pink. Rachel was definitely getting better at sexting, and it was the most distracting thing on the planet. She had three more days to finish the five paged paper, so catching up wouldn't be a problem.

"*sigh* fine, leave me to fend for myself. Maybe Santana and Brittany will take pity on me now that my girlfriend has found someone better to spend her time with." She knew she was baiting Rachel, trying to make her feel guilty or even a little irritated. However, if it was one thing Quinn Fabray hated more than being behind in that season's fashion trend it was feeling like she was being ignored or passed over.

"Have fun, baby! See you in glee club!" Clearly Rachel knew what she was up to and was having none of it. She let out a little huff and immediately felt like a spoiled rotten child for doing so. It was just one lunch. She would see Rachel later in class, and after school, plus since it was only Tuesday she would have lunch with her the rest of the week. Unless that hoe-bag wants another private lesson. What kind of name is Cindy Sanders anyway? That sounds like a stripper name, she thought with a roll of her eyes.

Feeling unwanted, Quinn scrolled through her contact list and hit call when she finally found the name she was looking for. She had gotten used to feeling left out and overlooked during the Baby Gate scandal, especially after Rachel spilled the beans to Finn that he wasn't the baby's father, but she never thought her girlfriend would be the cause of this awful feeling. Letting out a small sigh, she listened as the line rang and rang, but right before she was about to give up, her call was answered.

"This had better be good, Blondie," Santana barked into the phone, and Quinn's whole body tensed up. Dealing with a cranky Santana on a good day was not unlike getting a root canal while someone crashed too symbols together right next to her ear. So dealing with a cranky Santana while she was already feeling put out was going to be a challenge. Well, that can't be good, she thought, and took a deep breath, trying as hard as she could to squash the agitation building up in her chest.

"Well, hello to you too, Santana. Who taught you how to answer the phone, the devil in Prada?" she spat back, keeping the bite in her voice to a minimum in order to stop a fight from breaking out. Luckily her friend laughed instead of coming up with her own mean response, and it felt like a huge weight was lifted from Quinn's shoulders. She relaxed, and leaned against her locker, letting the cool metal calm her tense muscles.

"Ha-ha, Quinn, very funny," she said, her tone had lost most of the harshness it had when she answered. Quinn's smiled a very satisfied smirk when she heard what sounded like a slap, a yelp, and Santana muttering under her breath in Spanish. "Sorry, so what's up?" If everyone could see how whipped Santana was she would lose that badass reputation in a heartbeat. The insane thing was she and Brittany were only friends at the moment. Pussy whipped without the pussy, that'll be a fun card to play, she thought with a giggle.

"Nothing is up," she said, plastering a fake smile on her face. Over the years she had been taught that people can actually hear the sound of a smile through the phone, and even though Quinn was doing her best to shed away that training, some things still stuck. "I just thought maybe you might want to hang out at lunch; you, Brittany and me, just like old times before everything got crazy and super complicated." Pre-Baby Gate the three of them were thick as thieves, but now Quinn only spoke when she needed relationship advice or if Santana was freaking out about Brittany, and the former cheerleader never spoke to the other blonde anymore.

"What, is your girl too busy protecting a bridge from some goats to hang out with you?" the other girl responded with almost immediately. Quinn let out a small sigh, and let her head fall back against the locker. Santana always had a way of seeing through her bullshit, and now wasn't any different. Quinn was sure she would either grow up to be an FBI agent or some kind of con artist, either way the bitchy cheerleader would be involved in totally ruining someone's life whether it was in the pursuit of justice or the inability to hold down a real job.

"No, she doesn't have anything against goats," she said, and they both chuckled. She felt a tiny bit guilty for not defending her girlfriend against the troll comment, but she still felt a little burned and decided to let it slide. "She's actually giving a singing lesson to someone." She tried her best to keep the distain out of her voice, but she wasn't sure how successful she was, if she was at all. "I guess she wants to join glee club next year but wants to strengthen her voice first." That little revelation was met with silence, and a very nervous tension started coiling up in her belly because a silent Santana was either a scheming or contemplative Santana, and neither was a very good thing.

"And the bitch can't just hire someone for that?" she asked, and immediately there was another slap, followed by another yelp, Brittany saying something about feminism, and Quinn didn't even try to cover up her laughter at her friend's expense. "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up; alls I'm saying is, if someone is willingly spending time with Berry, the girl who looks like she should be institutionalized and sounds like someone dropped a spoon in a garbage disposal –"

"Fuck off, Santana, that's my girlfriend," Quinn practically spat the words into the phone.

"Exactly my point. You tolerate all of Yentl's craziness because you're touching second base, and maybe one day she'll let you slide into her promise land, but there is no way anyone would willingly subject themselves to that psychological torture without hoping to sample some of her Berry-juice." This time instead of a slap, Quinn could hear laughter in the background. Anger boiled and bubbled just under the surface, and she was sure that if she were a cartoon than smoke would be pouring out of her ears.

"God, Santana, what is wrong with you? Are you really a robot that's programmed to think that the only thing anyone wants from someone else is sex?" she asked, trying hard to keep her voice down since some other students were walking by. She really didn't need to be this week's gossip now that her outing was finally starting to die down. "Rachel may be a little…high maintenance, but she's been taking singing lessons since she was like, four, and she's willing to give this girl lessons for free." When did I become Cindy Sanders' advocate?

"If this girl wanted lessons so bad how come she didn't ask Kurt? He's been singing just as long, he's trained classically just like your lawn gnome, and there's a one hundred percent chance he's not going to hit on her. But no, this chick tracked down your fresh out of the closet girlfriend, and asked to spend time alone with her."

Quinn didn't want to believe it. She wanted to believe that this Cindy Sanders was genuinely interested in the vocal training, and she sought out Rachel for her talent and vast knowledge on the subject. However, Santana planted a tiny seed of doubt, tossed on some fertilizer, watered it, tended to it carefully, and now that little seed was a tall, strong oak tree weighing down on her mind and making her see red.

"I think you need to get laid. Clearly Brittany not putting out is starting to do damage to your brain. Let's just hope it isn't permanent," she said, trying to sound bitchy and mean, but it didn't come out that way at all. It sounded weak, pathetic, and just like the voice she always got whenever Santana was starting to get to her. She could just imagine the smug look on her stupid smarmy face.

"Look, I know you think I'm just giving you shit for the hell of it 'cause verbally mowing people down is a really great mental workout, but I'm not. For whatever reason that little woodland creature makes you happy, and not that fake perfect-little-daddy's-girl, happy-on-the-outside-but-dying-on-the-inside kind of happiness either, I mean real happiness that everyone in this place can practically feel pouring off of you. And if this bitch is trying to get on your girl than I got your back." All Quinn could do was stand there and blind stupidly, mouth hanging open and her limbs felt a little numb. She took a moment to really think about how she wanted to respond to this…whatever this was, and cleared her throat.

"Wow, Santana, when it comes to letting someone know you care about them, you really freaking suck at it," she said, a huge grin breaking out on her face. All of the tension that had been building between them finally came to a head, and they started laughing so hard, Quinn was doubled over, holding herself up with a hand on her knee. She quickly tried to calm down because the last thing she needed were raccoon marks from smeared mascara.

"I'm working on it. Gotta get better at it eventually, right?" she asked, her words strained with her own laughter. Quinn wasn't sure if Santana expected a response or not, but if she did she didn't leave enough room for her to get a sentence started. "So, what are we going to do about this chick? I think a slushie tsunami from the Cheerios would send a pretty clear message, don't you think?"

Quinn let out a small sigh and looked up at the ceiling. If she was being honest, that's exactly what she wanted to do. It was the same thing she did when Rachel was going after Finn, and the more Santana talked the more insecure she became. She chewed on her bottom lip as she gave the question the consideration it deserved, but the more she thought about it, the larger the knot in her stomach became.

"No, we can't do anything like that," she said, breaking the silence, and she didn't sound too happy about her own words. Santana let out a small sigh, and muttered something in Spanish, but it was too quick for Quinn to understand. "Rachel will know you're targeting her because of me, and you know how she is when it comes to bullying. Besides, we still don't know if this girl is up to something or not so until proven otherwise she's just a random student who wants to join glee club but needs some training first."

"And if I'm right, and she tries to make a move on your Keebler Elf?" Santana asked, and she sounded a little agitated with her blonde friend. Back in the day before she became a total softy, Quinn ruled this school with an iron fist. She had always admired her predecessor, but lately she was so freaking whipped by that little water sprite it was almost nauseating. The blonde in question didn't need time to think about this answer. It was already there, way down in her bones.

"Make her look like Carrie at the prom."